The End of the Line
by Lana Coombe
Summary: Sequel to The Line. Buck finds a way to deal with past events.
1. Chapter 1

**The End of the Line**

**_Dedicated to those who demanded 'To the Pain'. You know who you are!_  
**

**Chapter 1**

He didn't know what had made him lift his head and look across the street at that moment but he had and that was when he'd seen him. Kid wished with all his heart he hadn't but he had and now he wasn't sure what to do.

"Here you go, Kid." His attention was drawn to the piece of paper, being given to him and he briefly looked down, as Mr. Lawson placed the receipt for the plough parts in his hand. "Pleasure doin' business with you as always," the man continued, offering his hand, which Kid took and shook, but his attention was focussed on the boardwalk across the street. There were a few people still walking along but there was no sign of him now.

"Thanks, Mr. Lawson. I'm sure I'll be back soon for somethin' else," Kid responded, sliding the receipt into his jacket pocket. With one last look over his shoulder across the street, he climbed up onto the seat of the buckboard, glanced around once more before giving the reins a shake and urging the horses to move on.

As the horses plodded their way back to Rock Creek, Kid did a lot of thinking. He could say nothing but then he felt as if he would be betraying his friends. There again, if he did tell them it could stir up a whole mess of trouble. There were a good few miles to travel before he got home and hopefully, by then, he would have been able to make up his mind as to what he should do for the best.

O-O-O-O-O

Rachel smiled appreciatively at the tray of hot biscuits in her hand. It felt good to be cooking for everyone – made her feel useful and she did enjoy being part of this unconventional family. She looked up as the door of her kitchen clicked open to see Lou come in, carrying a dish covered over with a chequered cloth.

"It took me all afternoon to cook this darn apple pie and if anyone as much as makes the smallest comment about it not being any good I swear they'll be wearin' it!" she grumbled.

Rachel let out an understanding chuckle. "It'll be fine, Louise and I hope you didn't go over doin' it. You need to get as much rest as you can because as soon as that little one joins us you won't get much sleep for a while."

Lou put her pie on the table and gave her swollen stomach an affectionate stroke. "I feel just fine, Rachel. I get a little tired sometimes but I've never felt better," she replied, giving the older woman a warm smile.

"Well, I hope everyone gets here soon or the biscuits'll get cold," said Rachel, as she placed the tray on top of the stove to keep them as warm as she could for a little while longer.

"Kid should be back pretty soon," Lou told her, "and I saw Teaspoon and Jimmy comin' up the street together. Looked like Teaspoon was sharin' some more of his wisdom with Jimmy from the expression on his face," Lou added, causing Rachel to laugh out loud.

"Jimmy's gonna be the wisest man in the county if he listens to all Teaspoon's advice! So that just leaves Buck. You seen him?"

"Yeah, he had a last minute customer at the livery so will be along in a while, after he's seen to the horse."

The door clicked again and Jimmy and Teaspoon entered. "Kid's comin'," Jimmy informed the two women, as he unbuckled his gun belt and hung it on the coat rack.

Lou didn't need to be told twice and went to the door to greet her husband. She stood on the porch as he jumped down from the buckboard, came over to her, giving her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"Did you get what you wanted?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, tying off the horses on the hitching rail.

"What's wrong?" Lou asked. She knew Kid almost as well as she knew herself and it was clear something was bothering him.

"Nothin'," he replied but turned his back to her as he did so, knowing if she saw his face she would know that he was not being wholly truthful.

"Rachel's cooked supper for us all so why don't you get washed up and see to the horses and then we can eat."

Lou was about to go back inside when Kid said, "Where's Buck?"

"He's still at the livery but he'll be along soon. Why?" Lou was even more certain something was troubling Kid now as he darted a furtive glance in the direction of the livery.

With one last look at the livery, Kid came up the steps swiftly, took Lou by the arm and led her into Rachel's house.

"What's goin' on? " Lou asked, her brow furrowed in consternation.

"I'll tell you inside," Kid replied.

As they entered Kid looked back out through the door before closing it.

"Welcome home, Kid. You have a successful day?" Teaspoon started to say but instantly saw Kid's troubled look. "What's happened, son?" he asked, concerned.

Jimmy looked up from his seat at the table and Rachel came from the kitchen area, wiping her hands on her apron. "What's goin' on?" she asked.

Kid looked about at the assembled group, still unsure whether to say something.

"What is it, Kid?" Lou took his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze and looked up at him with large, dark anxious eyes.

Still holding her hand, Kid swallowed and took a breath. "I saw that bounty hunter, Brody, when I was in Millersville."

A hush fell over the room.

Jimmy was the first to speak, letting the words spill out in a soft growl. "I hope you shot him."

Kid shook his head.

"What did you do?" Teaspoon asked.

"Nothing," Kid replied. "I was just settling up with Lawson when I happened to look up and saw him across the street. I looked away for a moment and when I looked back he was gone."

"You sure it was him?" Jimmy pushed.

"Yes," Kid replied assuredly. "I recognised him right off."

"Well, why didn't you do nothin'?" Jimmy was on his feet now, an angry scowl forming on his face.

"I ain't you, Hickok. I don't go around shootin' people," Kid answered angrily, bristling at Jimmy's animosity.

Jimmy glared at Kid's accusation.

"Easy now, boys." Teaspoon stepped forward. "You did the right thing, Kid. Ain't no point in antagonisin' a man like that. No sayin' what he'd do."

"Isn't that all the more reason to make sure he don't go around doing what he did to Buck to no one else?" By now Jimmy was gripping the edge of the table, his abhorrence of the man clear in his narrowed eyes and clenched jaw.

"Well, seems to me it would be Buck's decision as to what to do about the man. As you said, Jimmy, it was him Brody treated so badly," Teaspoon said, with a sigh as he folded his arms across his chest.

"So, do we tell him that I saw Brody?" Kid asked.

Each person in the room considered the question for a moment before offering their answer.

"I don't know what good it'd do tellin' him. I mean, he's doin' real well at the moment and has put all that behind him. No point draggin' it all up again," Lou replied.

"I agree," said Rachel. "It'll only upset him and he's seems pretty content so I don't see tellin' him will do much good."

"Well I ain't forgotten what that man did. I think Buck's got a right to know," Jimmy stated. "As Teaspoon said, it'll be up to him if he wants to do somethin' about it and if he doesn't, well, I just might."

At that comment, everyone started to talk at once, arguing their points and the noise level rose to such an extent no one noticed the door opening and a certain dark-haired rider enter. His timing couldn't have been better, or worse, depending on whose point of view was deemed to be right, because as Buck entered Jimmy was just saying once again, "I think Buck's got a right to know."

"Right to know what?"

At the sound of his softly spoken words the room fell quiet with an awkward hush.

"Buck, honey, supper's almost ready," Rachel said, trying to divert him.

Buck merely eyed her sceptically and repeated, "Right to know what?"

Teaspoon came over to him and put an arm about his shoulders, making him immediately uneasy. The older man's tone was one used when about to break bad news. Buck's thoughts went to the only remaining rider not in the room.

"It's Cody isn't it? What's happened?"

"Cody's fine. This ain't about him," Teaspoon replied, proud that the boy's concern had gone to one of his family members. "Sit down, son."

Buck did as he was bid and looked around the room at the worried faces, his anxiety rising.

Clearing his throat Teaspoon started to talk. "Well, it's like this, Buck. As you know Kid was in Millersville today, gettin' that part he needed for the plough and, well it seems he saw someone." Teaspoon paused unsure whether he should go on but aware he couldn't go back now.

Buck's brow furrowed as he stared at the older man's face, waiting for him to finish. He looked over at Kid, pleadingly, for an answer.

Unable to bear it any longer, seeing his friend's bewilderment, Kid blurted out, "I saw him, that bounty hunter, Brody."

If the room had been quiet before it went deathly still at Kid's words. Buck's eyes widened as he took in the information. He found he was clenching his fists under the table and his jaw tightened at the mention of the man's name. Outwardly, to the other people in the room, he appeared fairly composed but inwardly he was in turmoil. He had tried to put the episode behind him and bury his anger but he still suffered from the memories of the ordeal. Over the last couple of months he had managed to hide it from the rest of the family, not wanting them to worry and fuss over him. He still woke at night, gasping for breath, imagining a noose tightening about his throat, with images of Ike and Noah colliding with those of a sneering Brody, who seemed to revel in his distress.

He realised that everyone was looking at him expectantly so got calmly to his feet and gave them a tight-lipped smile and turned to leave.

"Buck, where ya goin', honey? You haven't eaten," Rachel reached out to take his arm but Buck discretely shrugged it off.

"I'm not hungry," he said as he grasped the door handle.

Teaspoon placed his own hand over Buck's. "Son, I think you ought to stay and talk about this," he said leaning in close and speaking in a low voice, so as only Buck could hear.

"Nothing to talk about," Buck told him as he turned the handle. "I just need some time on my own. It's been a long day and I don't feel like discussing this right now."

"I understand but I don't think you should be alone. Your family's here for you." Teaspoon maintained his grip on Buck's hand.

"I know that, Teaspoon. I just need to think about this and I don't need people to tell me what they think I should do. This is my problem and I'll deal with it in my own way," he answered resolutely.

Teaspoon released his hold. "Alright, son but you know where we are if you want to talk about it."

Buck nodded and looked back over his shoulder at the others. "Thank you," he said huskily, struggling to keep his emotions in check. "Appreciate you telling me, Kid and I understand how you feel Jimmy but this is my problem and I'll deal with it as I see fit." With that he opened the door and stepped outside, taking a deep, grateful breath of the cool, evening air.

_**Many thanks to my lovely betas who were oh so kind!**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

As Jimmy approached the livery he heard a rhythmic thudding. He hesitated briefly to listen but apart from the thumps there was no other sound. He moved cautiously along the wall and slipped quietly inside the door just as something skimmed passed his face.

Jimmy plastered his back against the wall and released a hissed curse. As he looked about he saw Buck regarding him with raised eyebrows, as he walked calmly across the barn to yank his knife from the wooden support post, which was peppered with notches, where the knife had landed on previous occasions.

"What d'you want, Jimmy?" Buck asked flatly.

"Rachel was gettin' to frettin' that you hadn't eaten nothin'. Sent me out with a plate for you," he replied, holding a cloth clad platter aloft, in illustration.

"Just put it over there. I ain't hungry," Buck told him, indicating a workbench to the side of the barn, scattered with pieces of leather and tools. Jimmy swept an area clear and put the plate down but another thud took him by surprise and he instinctively went for his gun. He stopped when a firm hand gripped his arm.

"Easy, Hickok," Buck told him and he released his grip and went to retrieve his knife once more.

"You do that often?" Jimmy asked.

"Only when I got something to think about," Buck answered as he tossed the knife again.

"So you thinkin' about it?"

"Thinking about what?" Buck replied as he ran his thumb along the edge of the knife, bringing it to a stop momentarily at the tip, knowing full well to what Jimmy was referring.

"Goin' after Brody?" Jimmy frowned.

Slipping his knife back into the sheath on his leg, Buck sank down to sit on a nearby bale of hay.

"I'm not sure that it would achieve much," he replied.

Jimmy's eyes narrowed and he rested against a post, arms folded across his chest. "That bastard would get what was comin' to him. After what he done to you, hell, he deserves every thin' he gets!"

Buck didn't answer but leaned back against a wood partition. "I've tried to put what happened behind me and just get on with my life. I thought I was doing pretty well until tonight. Look, I came out here, away from the others 'cos I don't need people telling me what they think I should do. That goes for you as well, Jimmy."

The depth of Buck's feelings on the matter was clear to Jimmy by the look on his friend's face. He may have tried to move on but he had not been able to be reconciled with what Brody had done. Jimmy knew he couldn't forgive the man either.

"Don't you want some kind of revenge for what he done?" Jimmy persisted.

"I got myself in this mess because I wanted revenge. If I'd let the law deal with Neville then …"

"He would have got away with what he done to Ike, Buck which is why you done what you did," Jimmy interjected.

"Possibly but we don't know that for sure. I intervened and I paid the price."

"And Brody should pay the price for what he done."

Buck leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, clasping his hands in contemplation. "Not sure it would be worth it," he said quietly.

"So you're not gonna do nothin'?"

"I'm going to sleep on it and see how I feel in the morning. Tell Rachel thanks for the food." Buck got to his feet and made his way to the back of the livery, towards the small room where he slept and Jimmy realised the conversation was over – for now.

Z

There was a time when the room had offered some sort of security and refuge from the world to its occupant but now Buck felt trapped. It wasn't so much the physical confines of the walls but the quiet and solitude, which gave him time to think and reflect on the past.

When he took over the livery, having his own business to run and own living quarters had made him feel there was some real hope for the future. The Pony Express had given him a start and a foothold in the white man's world but things changed. Losing Ike so tragically had left him feeling alone and nearly made him retreat back to the Kiowa. There was a time when he used to call them 'my people' but over time he began to think of his friends at the Express as his people more and more and the links to his real family had been lost. The other members of his adopted family were there for him and helped him with his loss. Their support brought him through some hard times but he had still been restless.

He tried to strike out on his own but came to appreciate what he had with his friends in Rock Creek and returned, a little world weary and a little wiser. The chance of buying the livery offered him some real stability and opportunity to really make a place for himself in the world and was pleased he had taken the step.

The whole episode with Brody had shaken him more than he cared to admit. Throughout his life he had endured much prejudice but although he didn't understand how people who didn't know him could direct such hatred at him, he knew their reason. With Brody it was different. His treatment of him was not because of the colour of his skin or even who he was it was just downright maliciousness. Buck was not naïve enough to know there weren't people in the world who had so little regard for others but to have suffered it at first hand experience was a shock and one from which he was having trouble recovering.

While he knew that Brody would probably never bother him again it irked him that the man was still riding around, inflicting his malevolence on others. It further aggravated him that the man had disrupted the peace he had started to find in his life and for that he would never forgive him.

As Buck sat on his cot, his back against the wall, knees drawn up, he watched his shadow, cast by the glow from the lamp, flicker and wane. It was how he felt at the moment, he reflected. A mere shadow of what he once was, trying to regain some stability in his life. It was not in his make up to give in, he was stronger than that and he knew he could get through this. It was just a matter of how. Reaching over, to turn out the lamp, he came to a decision, one he hoped he wouldn't come to regret.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The clattering of a skillet on the hob heralded the start of a new day in Rachel's house. After the events of the previous evening she felt it was important to pull the family together and the best way she knew how to do that was around a table, laden with good food. Besides, she was concerned that Buck hadn't eaten properly last night and wanted to be sure he had a decent breakfast inside him before he started work for the day.

She was just placing the plates on the table when the door opened and Teaspoon ambled in.

"Good morning, Rachel," he said cheerily.

She returned a smile. "Breakfast won't be long," she told him. "You seen Jimmy and Buck? I don't want it to get cold waitin' on them."

"Jimmy should be along shortly. He was just gonna call into the office to make sure there weren't nothin' important to see to this mornin' before headin' over here," the older man informed her. "I ain't seen Buck this mornin'. No doubt he's busyin' himself at the livery." Rachel slapped the back of Teaspoon's hand as he tried to sneak a piece of bacon from the pan she was putting on top of the oven to keep warm.

"Perhaps you could go tell them foods hot and waitin', Teaspoon," she said, giving him one of her best cajoling smiles.

With a sigh Teaspoon turned to do as he'd been asked. He found it difficult to say 'no' to Rachel, whatever the request. Just as he was about to open the door there was a knock. He opened it to find Joe Tyler standing on the doorstep.

"Good day, young Joe," Teaspoon said with affected politeness. "And what can we do for you this mornin'? Buck not givin' you enough work to do?" he asked the youngster who had been helping Buck at the livery for the last month or so.

"Mornin' Marshal Hunter," Joe replied. "No, I got me plenty of work to do, what with Mr. Cross bein' away an all. He asked me ta give ya this," he said, offering Teaspoon a piece of paper he was clutching in his hand. "Now, I better get back ta work," he added as he trotted back down the steps towards the livery.

"What is it, Teaspoon?" Rachel called from inside the house. "Did I hear Joe? D'you wanna ask if he wants to join us for breakfast?"

"Huh?" Teaspoon asked distractedly as he unfolded the paper and read what was written. As Rachel walked towards him, to repeat her invitation, she saw a troubled expression on the older man's face.

"Damn!" he cursed as he looked in the direction of the livery.

"What is it Teaspoon?" she asked worriedly.

"He's gone."

"Who?"

"Buck. Gone off to find that darn bounty hunter. Knew I should have gone talk to him last night."

Rachel's hands flew up to her mouth as she took in the information. "We gotta stop him, Teaspoon."

"Gotta stop who?" Jimmy called out as he crossed the street towards them.

Teaspoon held out Buck's note to him. As Jimmy scanned it, his jaw tightened, then he looked up and said simply, "I'll go find him. Back him up," before thrusting the note back at Teaspoon.

"Now hold on, son. Seems to me this is somethin' Buck feels he needs to do on his own. If he needed help he would have asked ya for it," he said, "instead of sneakin' off in the night," he added tetchily.

Rachel took the note from Teaspoon and looked at Buck's neat script. It simply said, 'This is something I need to do. I know you will all understand. Buck.'

"I ain't gonna let him go after that man on his own, Teaspoon. He seemed pretty shook up last night and I don't think he's thinkin' straight. I ain't gonna do nothin', just help him out, is all," Jimmy stormed determinedly.

Teaspoon sighed. It was ironic really that he had been the one to instil such loyalty in these boys so he couldn't very well dispute Jimmy's reasoning.

"Hickok, the day you do nothin' I'll retire! Just promise me you'll be careful and make sure you and Buck come back in one piece. You hear?"

Jimmy dropped his gaze for a moment then looked at his would be mentor and gave him a tight-lipped smile. "I'll make sure of it. Your bag of tricks still comes in useful from time to time," he remarked.

"Well, you're not goin' anywhere until you've eaten a good breakfast," Rachel told him decisively, taking his arm and ushering him inside her house. Jimmy knew better than to argue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry about the mix up with posting the last chapter. Still not sure what happened! Hope you've caught up now so here's the next instalment.**

**Chapter 4**

It had been barely light when Buck rose from his bed. After getting dressed he had gone out to the stalls and checked the horses, before returning to his room and writing a note and a long list of instructions for Joe. He felt a little bad at leaving the youngster with so much responsibility at such short notice but he felt confident Joe would be able to handle things. Joe was about the same age he had been when he joined the Express and looking after the livery was a lot less dangerous than that had been.

He wrapped up the food Jimmy had brought out for him the previous night and stashed it in his saddle bags, along with his usual basic kit and went to saddle his horse. As he led the animal out through the livery door, the first rays of the morning sun were breaking across the early gloom of the sky.

Stroking his horse's neck, more to calm himself rather than the animal, he glanced over towards Rachel's house, which was still in darkness. Looking further down the street in the direction of the Marshal's office, he could see the glow of a low lamp spilling softly from the window. He knew neither Teaspoon or Jimmy where on night duty but he still didn't want to risk being seen so he swung up into the saddle and turned his horse in the opposite direction, cutting around the back of the town before taking the trail which led to Millersville.

O-O-O-O-O

It didn't take long for Jimmy to eat a hasty breakfast and be on his way. He knew Buck had a few hours' head start but reckoned he would catch up to him by nightfall. It wasn't as if he didn't know where his Kiowa friend was headed after all and Millersville was only a day's ride away.

By the time he reached the town it was just getting dark. He hitched his horse outside the saloon, deciding it was as good a place to start looking as anywhere and besides, a cool drink wouldn't go amiss either.

He was leaning on the bar, just about to lift a sarsaparilla to his mouth when he felt someone stand behind him. Instinctively he calmed himself and waited for the confrontation to begin as he heard who ever it was let out an exasperated sigh.

"What you doin' here, Hickok?" a familiar voice said.

Jimmy closed his eyes in relief and a smirk creased his lips.

"Havin' myself a drink," he replied nonchalantly.

Buck let out another sigh and moved to stand beside Jimmy at the bar. "This ain't your fight," he said in a low, even voice.

"Never said it was," Jimmy answered, standing upright and turning to look at his friend.

"That injun bothering you, mister?' the bartender called over. Jimmy gave the man an appraising glare and chose to ignore him.

Draining his drink in a couple of gulps Jimmy swiped the back of his hand across his mouth. "Let's go somewheres we can talk," he told Buck and led the way out of the saloon but not before Buck had given the bartender a meaningful look of his own.

They found themselves by a corral, attached to the town's livery, in the cool evening gloom. Jimmy leaned his arms on the top rail and rested his foot on the bottom. "You didn't really think we'd just let you ride out on your own did you, Buck?" he asked.

Buck shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I guess not," he mumbled.

"You should know by now that you're considered family and family stick together. Hell, we've done it enough times in the past."

Buck nodded in affirmation. "There are some things that have to be done alone though, Jimmy. This really is my problem. I'm not even sure what I'm going to do if I find him."

"I know exactly what I'd do," Jimmy snarled.

"And that's why I have to do this alone. I don't want you getting mixed up in my affairs and getting yourself in trouble."

"Look, I appreciate your consideration 'n all and I understand that. I don't plan on gettin' in your way but I think it would be foolhardy to go after Brody on your own. Like you said, you're not sure what you're gonna do when you find him so all I'm sayin' is I'll be there to back you up. I'd hate to have to tell Lou and Rachel if anythin' happened to you."

"I can handle myself, Jimmy," Buck snapped. "He just got the jump on us last time and part of that was your fault for leadin' him to me."

Jimmy was a little taken aback by Buck's accusation but decided to let it go as he knew he was right. "Yeah, and I apologised about that," he replied.

Buck felt a little ashamed of speaking to his friend in that way, after all he had ridden out to help him and it might not necessarily be what Buck wanted but he did appreciate the gesture. Lowering his head, he said, "I know and I know it wasn't your fault. Brody was an experienced tracker to be able to steal up on us like he did. It wasn't your fault, Jimmy."

"Could have been more careful, all the same," Jimmy offered, "which is why I think you need me along. Brody isn't gonna be easy to track, not if he don't want to be found and two heads are usually better than one, wouldn't you say?"

"You're probably right," Buck assured him. "Maybe it will be a help having you along."

Jimmy looked over at Buck cautiously but, on seeing the look of certainty on his friend's face, gave him a smug grin.

"But we do this my way," Buck asserted.

Jimmy nodded his concession. "You got a plan?"

"Well, I've been asking around and there seems to be opinions on which way Brody was heading when he rode out," Buck told his friend.

Jimmy furrowed his brow. "So what you wanna do?"

Buck hesitated a moment while he mulled over the question. "We can cover more ground if we split up and then meet in, let's say in a week's time. It'll give me time to think about what I want to do about him." Buck almost spat the last word out.

"You sure splitting up's a good idea? I didn't ride out here only to let you ride off on your own again," Jimmy stated.

"I understand that, Hickok but the trail could go cold if we don't follow both leads. I promise to be careful and come find you if there's anything I can't handle," Buck told him.

Jimmy nodded his agreement. "So where d'we look?"

"The man at the livery thought he was heading toward Salt Lake but the store owner reckoned, from the supplies he bought, he was going south, possibly to Mexico, which would mean crossing the desert. I reckon I got a better chance of following his tracks, so why don't you head west and see what you can find."

Jimmy pondered the request for a minute or so. "It's a big area to cover. What d'you reckon your chances of pickin' up his trail are? I mean, I know you're a good tracker 'n all but seems a might of a difficult task, like the needle in a haystack Teaspoon's always tellin' us about."

"Reckon you're right but those are the only leads I got. I know it's a long shot and if we don't find any sign of him in a week then I'll put it down to providence and we can just go home."

"Providence, huh? That's what it's called now is it?" Jimmy laughed, shaking his head. "If that's the way you wanna play it, Buck then that's what we'll do. Now, how about a decent meal and then gettin' some sleep? We both got a long ride ahead of us in the mornin'."

"Sounds good to me, Hickok. Most sensible thing you've said in a long time!" Buck replied jovially, trying to bring a lighter tone to the discussion. Jimmy merely gave him a withering look before pushing himself off the corral rail and heading towards the saloon. Buck watched his retreating back, his expression sad and concerned. He really didn't want his friend mixed up in his troubles and he certainly didn't want to mislead him, but it was good to know he was standing by him at the same time.

"You comin'?" Jimmy called back. With a couple of long strides Buck joined him and they headed towards the saloon to discuss the finer details of the next day.


	5. Chapter 5

**The story continues. It's strange how some stories write themselves. Hope you're enjoying. Please leave a comment.**

**Chapter 5**

The next morning Jimmy and Buck simultaneously swung up onto their horses and rode to the edge of town together. Having agreed their given destinations the previous night and arranged to meet up in ten days time, there wasn't a whole lot to add so they merely shook hands, pausing a little longer than usual, regarding other with a knowing look of brotherly understanding.

"You take care of yourself, Buck," Jimmy vocalised.

"You too, Hickok," Buck replied, grasping Jimmy's hand firmly, who returned the gesture before wheeling his horse round and heading west. Buck watched him ride away and couldn't help the rush of guilt he felt. At least he knew he wasn't sending Jimmy into any danger, that he knew of, which made him feel more reassured that he was doing the right thing by his friend.

With a resigned sigh, Buck turned his own horse away from the town of Millersville and headed south, across the open plains, towards the hard, dry expanse of land.

O-O-O-O-O

By the time Jimmy reached Salt Lake it was becoming dusk. He had ridden at a good pace, not wishing to have the trail go cold on him, not that he had seen any sign of Brody passing that way. As he rode into town he contemplated what to do first. He considered taking his horse to the livery but then thought if he managed to get a lead on Brody he may have to ride out so decided to hitch the animal for the meantime.

Once again he chose the saloon as a starting point and turned his horse in its direction.

Pulling his hat low down over his eyes he pushed his way through the bat-wing doors and surreptitiously scanned the room for the bounty hunter. Not seeing him, he made his way to the bar and ordered a whiskey. Having to drink sarsaparilla was one thing he didn't miss from his days with the Express!

Taking a sip of the amber liquid he revelled in the burning sensation as it coursed its way down his throat, before turning to face into the room, casually resting an elbow on the bar as he took another good look around. There was still no sign of Brody.

He decided to chance asking the barman so twisting around, caught the man's attention and ordered another whiskey. As his drink was being poured Jimmy slid a dollar coin across the bar.

"Wonder if you can help me. Lookin' for someone," he said, letting his fingertip remain on the coin.

The barman raised an eyebrow at him but said nothing as he re-corked the bottle. Jimmy pushed the coin a little closer towards him. "Goes by the name of Brody. Wears a two gun rig."

"I don't need no gunfights in my place," the barman growled at him before making to move away.

Jimmy quickly produced another coin and set it on the bar. "I ain't lookin' for a fight, just the man," he told him, noticing the man's eyes flick down to the coins.

"My mistake. It's just I notice you wear two guns so I figured …" He trailed off and shrugged his shoulders and reached out to take the coins.

Jimmy rested his own, gloved hand on top of the barman's as he went to retrieve the coins. "So, you seen anyone who fits that description?"

"Can't say I have," the barman replied, trying to slide his hand from beneath Jimmy's, who tightened his grasp.

"You sure about that?" Jimmy asked pointedly.

The barman snatched his hand away, leaving the coins on the bar. "Yeah, I'm sure," he snapped and walked off, leaving Jimmy to scoop up the coins regretfully. It was obvious he was following a cold trail here so he tipped the remainder of his drink into his mouth and headed for the door.

As Jimmy emerged from the saloon it was getting dark. Standing on the boardwalk he looked up and down the main street of the town. There was quite a bit of activity as people scurried home before night fell and the less desirable residents of Salt Lake made the streets their own. Jimmy pondered what to do next. There had been no sign of Brody having been this way but perhaps he should give it one more day. Besides, there seemed little point spending the night on the hard, cold ground so he collected his horse and made his way to the livery, before it closed for the night and then on to the hotel to get a room. He would start his search again the following day he decided, after a decent meal and a good night's sleep. His thoughts slipped to Buck as he wondered how his friend was making out. He hadn't envied him the trip to the desert but knew that his Kiowa friend would fair better than he ever could.

O-O-O-O-O

The water stripped the dry, prickliness from his parched throat and Buck swallowed it down gratefully, even though it wasn't as cool as he would have liked. He took several refreshing mouthfuls before putting the stopper back on the canteen. Pulling his hat a little lower over his eyes against the sun's glare, he let his gaze drift off towards the shimmering horizon, as the heat haze danced across the rough terrain.

It hadn't taken him long to pick up Brody's trail. Having followed his tracks for a good distance while being dragged along behind the bounty hunter's horse, the hoof print was etched emphatically in his mind. Every chink and curve, every indentation and divot left in the ground, memorised.

It was evident from the path of the trail that Brody was heading towards Mexico – no doubt to try and collect on another bounty, Buck thought glumly. He continued to stare in the direction Brody had ridden and shifted uneasily in his saddle and considered whether he should continue to follow. Once again the voice of reason spoke to him, telling him to turn around and let his grievance lie but his Kiowa heart was strong and demanded some form of retribution. He knew that the decision had already been made, by the fact that he was here and had sent Jimmy on a wild goose chase in the other direction. Drawing a breath, he gathered up his reins and urged his horse forward, towards Mexico.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

For about the tenth time in the last hour, Jimmy looked up and down the main street of Millersville but there was still no sign of Buck. Returning his attention to the piece of wood he was whittling, to pass the time, he contemplated how much longer he should wait before setting out to find his friend. There had seemed little point in continuing his search for Brody as he had drawn a blank in every town in the area, having found no evidence of Brody passing that way. After ten days Jimmy had returned to Millersville, to meet up with Buck, as was arranged. But that was two days ago.

He hadn't been too concerned at first but merely revelled in the bath and steak dinner he had treated himself to on the first evening. After a week of sleeping on the hard, cold ground and eating mainly jerky, both had been much appreciated. But as another day passed and there was still no sign of Buck his apprehension had grown. He knew Buck was more than capable of looking after himself, even in the harsh desert environment but going up against Brody was another thing,

The bounty hunter had proved himself to be an expert tracker and experienced hunter. Coupled together with the fact he was also a callous and heartless bastard, Jimmy couldn't help but worry that Buck may have bitten off more than he could handle. He reproached himself for having agreed to splitting up. They should have stayed and faced Brody together. Jimmy felt he still had a score to settle with the man and would have been more than happy to have done it personally.

Once again his gaze drifted to the street but no familiar dark haired rider could be seen. Tossing the piece of wood he had been whittling aside, Jimmy shoved his knife back in his pocket, pushed himself off the post on which he had been leaning and made his way to the saloon. Perhaps a drink would ease his anxieties.

Several whiskies later Jimmy had made up his mind to ride out the following morning to see if he could find Buck. He dreaded what exactly he might find but feared, even more, having to tell everyone back in Rock Creek if something awful had happened to Buck. This dismal thought caused him to almost empty the bottle before him. As he was nearing the bottom of the bottle he felt someone come up behind him. Unobtrusively he let his hand slide down his thigh until it rested on his Colt as his thumbed off the safety catch.

"Can I do somethin' for you?" he muttered into the drink he lifted to his lips with the other hand.

"You can pour me a drink before you empty that bottle," a familiar husky voice replied.

Jimmy's head snapped up and his mouth twisted into a smirk. "Pull up a seat," he said, pushing the chair from the table with his foot.

Buck sank gratefully down onto the chair, threw his hat on the table and tossed the whiskey Jimmy had poured for him back in one. He grimaced and let out a gargled cough. "Remember why I don't drink that stuff too often," he muttered.

Jimmy snorted a laugh. "Looks like you could use it though," he told Buck, taking in the layers of dust, which clung to his clothes and streaked his face, which was drawn and haggard. There were dark circles under his downcast eyes, suggesting a few nights without sleep.

Buck didn't respond but kept his gaze averted.

"So, you gonna tell me what happened?" Jimmy asked impatiently. "You find him?"

At first Buck didn't reply then he let out a sigh and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "I found his tracks and trailed him for a few days."

"And?" Jimmy interjected.

"He's gone, Jimmy," Buck replied flatly.

Jimmy leaned forward now and, in a low voice said, "What do you mean gone? You shoot him?"

"No. I …" Buck faltered a moment. "I lost him out in the desert," he answered despondently.

"You lost him?" Jimmy queried. "Did he know you were followin' him?"

Buck poured himself another drink and swirled it around the glass. "He might have," he answered finally.

"Damn! You think he managed to give you the slip?" Jimmy enquired.

"What's it matter, Hickok?" Buck suddenly snapped. "What's done is done and I just want to get the hell out of here and go home. I've left Joe in charge long enough. I just hope I've got a business to go back to," he snarled, before draining his glass and slamming it down on the table.

Jimmy eyed him warily. It was unlike Buck to be so verbally aggressive but he guessed that he was just disappointed and wrung out. If he was honest, he too was keen to get back to Rock Creek. Perhaps they would cross paths with Brody another time and when that happened Jimmy vowed he would make sure the man didn't get away.

Draining his own glass, Jimmy got to his feet and slapped his hat on his head. "Come on. Let's get to bed so's we can make an early start in the mornin'."

Buck nodded his agreement and stood up and picked up his own hat. He watched Jimmy stride towards the door and let out a long breath. His head dropped forward. "Sorry Hickok," he mumbled before following him back to the hotel.


	7. Chapter 7

**Want to know what happens next? Keep reading …. And commenting!**

**Chapter 7**

With a sigh of contentment, Teaspoon folded his arms across his chest, leaned against the post outside the Marshal's office and surveyed the town. Things had been going pretty well recently and all had been fairly quiet in Rock Creek. Apart from the occasionally over inebriated patron, from the saloon, the cells in the jail had been vacant.

It was good to feel that life was settling down once more, after the traumas of the previous year. Teaspoon had remained stoic and acted out the role of head of the household, keeping things going but the loss of Ike had hit him hard. When Buck had shot Neville he had feared he was about to lose another one of his boys. And then there had been Noah.

He was glad of the recent inactivity. The last couple of months had been a little trying. Buck's capture by that bounty hunter had turned his world upside down for a while and when Buck and Jimmy had ridden out after the man he had been anxious. He had been very relieved when they had returned to town nearly a month ago, both fit and well. Truth be told he was glad they hadn't managed to find him as he had been concerned about how Buck would have exacted his revenge. He understood the boy's need to settle a score but he had seen no benefit in such action and thought it may have only brought more trouble. Besides, Buck seemed more at peace now and a lot more positive.

The early arrival of Lou and Kid's first born had also been a welcome distraction and a momentous day, one which had raised the spirits of all the members of the makeshift family. Teaspoon had been extremely proud that day as he watched Lou cradle her new son, with Kid looking at his new family in awe struck joy. It had been a long, drawn out birth but Lou's resilience and determination had brought her through and baby Lewis was strong and healthy. Lou had been back on her feet in a matter of days and was coping well with the demands of motherhood. It felt good to have them close and he was rather enjoying his new role as honouree grandparent.

When the Express had been disbanded he feared he would lose them all, but good fortune had kept them close, apart from Cody. Thankfully the boy was vigilant about keeping in touch and wrote fairly regularly, his letters showing his usual flair, describing some of the events of his new life with the army which had provided many an evening's entertainment. He just hoped he could hold onto them all a little longer. His job with the Pony Express had given him a new lease of life and purpose. Being Marshal had its benefits but what he enjoyed most was going back to Rachel's house to sit and eat a meal with other people and talking about their days. He was particularly looking forward to tonight's meal as he knew Rachel was planning on cooking his favourite – fried chicken.

Just as he was set on leaving he heard the rumble of the evening stage coming. As it rounded the corner he saw Stan guiding the team into town. The lure of Rachel's cooking was strong but he could wait a few more minutes and Stan usually had some interesting story to tell from one of the other towns, through which he took the stage. Pushing himself off the post, Teaspoon made his way across the street to meet his friend.

O-O-O-O-O

"Aw, come on Rachel. There's no tellin' how long Teaspoon'll be and my stomach thinks my throat's been cut," Jimmy griped as he sat at the table, knife and fork already in hand.

"Let's give him a couple more minutes, Jimmy. I'm sure he'll be along soon. Never known him to miss out on my fried chicken." There was some real truth in this statement and Rachel couldn't help but feel a little anxious. She was sure that if something had been wrong someone would have come to tell them. "He's just been held up, that's all," she told the two young men seated at the table, more for her own reassurance.

"It's just as well Cody isn't here," Buck commented dryly. "He'd have sent out a search party by now to hurry Teaspoon along."

"Or eaten it all!" Jimmy ironically added.

Buck smiled at his friend. It was good to see him in such good humour. He would never have thought he would have become so close to Hickok but the two had become firm friends since the Express had ended and a stronger bond had formed since the episode with Brody. There was a mutual, unspoken respect between them and they had both been through a lot, individually and together, for men of such a young age.

Rachel was just about to suggest one of them go look for the older man when the door latched clicked and Teaspoon walked through the door.

"'Bout time!" Jimmy exclaimed. "Can we eat now?" he implored Rachel. She nodded in acquiescence and both Jimmy and Buck quickly started piling their plates.

Several mouthfuls in, it was Buck who noticed the perturbed look on Teaspoon's face. Jimmy was too busy tucking his napkin into his collar as Rachel was putting more chicken on his plate.

"Anything wrong, Teaspoon?" Buck asked, passing the bread across the table, as Teaspoon took his seat at the head, having returned from washing up.

"Huh?" came the distracted reply.

"You look like you've had some bad news," Buck continued, taking a bite of his bread.

"Um. No. Not bad news as such."

"What is it?" Jimmy offered as he loaded his plate with more potato.

Teaspoon looked from one young man to the other. "Just heard some interestin' news is all."

"Oh?" Rachel said as she took her seat at the table. "Anything serious?"

Teaspoon hesitated and clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on the table, as if searching for the right words.

"I've been speakin' to old Stan. He brought the stage in this evenin'. Told me about a prospector who came across a body in the desert a couple of weeks back." He paused again and dropped his gaze. "By all accounts it was that bounty hunter, Brody."

Teaspoon looked up and his eyes met Buck's.

"Brody? Well I'll be damned!" Jimmy exclaimed. "Guess that's why you couldn't find him, huh, Buck?"

"I guess," Buck rasped quietly.

"Wanna tell me what happened out there, son?" Teaspoon asked, keeping his eyes fixed on Buck, who had dropped his gaze and was staring at his half filled plate.

"What do you mean? Nothin' happened. He didn't find the man, did you, Buck?" queried Jimmy.

Buck remained silent and clenched his fists under the table. After a couple of moments he raised his head and looked at Teaspoon and saw what he interpreted as a look of accusation in the older man's face. "There's nothing for you to know, Teaspoon."

"What are you tryin' to say, Teaspoon? You suggestin' that somethin' happened that Buck ain't tellin' us?" Jimmy's face was stern and his eyes shifted uncomfortably from Buck to Teaspoon.

"Well, I suppose it seems a might coincidental that you went off lookin' for him and then he turns up dead. Guess I'm askin' iffen you killed him, Buck," Teaspoon asked flatly.

Rachel looked on – aghast at Teaspoon's indictment.

"How did he die?" Jimmy interceded. "Was he shot or did someone have the good sense to strangle him with their bare hands?"

"Jimmy!" exclaimed a wide-eyed Rachel.

"He was found just layin' out in the desert," Teaspoon explained.

"Well, there ya go. That don't prove nothin' does it, except his luck ran out, not that anyone killed him," Jimmy stated agitatedly.

"That's true," Teaspoon replied calmly. "It was just a might strange that none of his things were found – no horse, no canteen, no gun – even his knife was missing."

"Still don't prove nothin'," said Jimmy as he forked a mouthful of food into his mouth.

Buck stayed quiet throughout the whole interaction. Keeping his eyes down and his lips pressed together, moving the reminder of his meal about the plate with his fork.

"You alright, honey?" Rachel asked quietly, resting her hand on Buck's arm.

"Fine," he replied in a low, husky voice, full of emotion.

Teaspoon regarded him for a moment then took a deep breath. "Well, what's done is done. Don't change nothin'. Can't say I'm sorry he's dead, not after what he done. World's a little better place without him in it. Now pass me some of that chicken if you'd be so kind, Rachel. Looks delicious!"

As the older man started filling his plate Buck pushed his chair back from the table. "Would you excuse me. I guess I'm not feeling all that hungry," he said, getting to his feet and putting his plate with a half eaten meal on the side.

"But you haven't …" Rachel started to say but Buck was out the door before she could finish.

An awkward hush ensued before Jimmy said, "Don't know why everyone's gettin' so upset. That man got off lightly for all the misery he's caused."

"You really think Buck ain't tellin' us somethin', Teaspoon?" Rachel asked worriedly.

"Don't really matter what I think. It's what the boy thinks and the effect it has on him. All I'm sayin' is we need to keep an eye on him for a couple of days. I'm hopin' that with Brody gone we can draw a line under the whole sorry episode." Teaspoon shoved a large piece of chicken into his mouth, signalling he the end of the conversation.

Rachel looked over at Jimmy who sat tensely across the table from her and merely raised his eyebrows in response and twisted his mouth to signify to her that he was as at a loss as much as she. The remainder of the meal was eaten in relative silence.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Buck hadn't meant to leave Rachel's so abruptly but he had to get out of there, away from the quizzical and reproachful looks. It took him no time at all to slip a bridle on his horse and vault onto its bare back and ride out of town. He had begun to feel claustrophobic, like the walls were closing in on him and he needed to breathe the fresh air and feel the open space about him. He needed to feel alive and rid himself of the numbness, which had enveloped him.

Once out in the open, away from the town, he gave his horse its head. The animal's muscles rippled beneath him as it gathered speed and flew over the open ground and the cool evening breeze ripped the hair from his face and he revelled in the release it gave. As he rode he tried not to think, just to lose himself in the moment and imagine he was somewhere else, caught in another time. But the image of Teaspoon's face, clouded with disappointment would not go away. He had seen that face once before, when he had killed Neville and, as far as he was concerned that had been one time too many.

Realising the futility of trying to run from these thoughts he eventually steadied the horse and pulled it to a stop. He found himself in Ike's meadow, where they had built his funeral pyre and released his spirit. It was dusk now and the trees cast long shadows across the ground. Slipping from the horse's back he tied it to one of the trees and made his way to a patch of long lush grass, interweaved with meadow flowers, to the site of the pyre, the closest to a grave for Ike.

Buck kneeled down amongst the flowers and placed his hand on top of the earth. He closed his eyes and imagined the pulsing beat of the ground and Ike's spirit beneath his fingers. Taking a handful of long grass, he gripped it tightly and lifted his head to the sky, opening his eyes to the infinite expanse of sky above. With a deep breath he lifted his arms upwards, drew in a large lungful of air and then filled the quiet with a plaintive cry.

O-O-O-O-O

Buck stayed in the meadow until it was dark and then rode slowly back to Rock Creek. He felt more at peace with himself, having prayed for forgiveness and 'spoken' with Ike. There was no doubt in his mind the spirits understood his actions and probably had more than a little in making his decision. Ike too, who knew him better than anyone would appreciate why he had done what he did and would always be there to guide him.

By the time he got back to town all seemed quiet, apart from the usual hum of voices from the saloon, as the late night patrons drank their last. He was relieved to see Rachel's house was in darkness as he wasn't ready to face anyone just yet and felt it would all seem much clearer in the morning after a night's sleep.

He led his horse into the livery and secured it in its stall and made his way to his small room at the back. As he pushed open the door he froze. In the gloom he could see the dark hunched figure of a man on his cot.

"'Bout time you showed up," groused Jimmy, lifting his head to look in Buck's direction.

"What you doing here, Hickok?" Buck asked, as he lit the lantern, its glare casting a large shadow from Jimmy's form, across the wall.

"Waitin' for you," Jimmy replied. "Just wanted to make sure you were alright."

"No you didn't. You came to ask if Teaspoon was right," Buck returned, slipping off his vest and sitting on a wooden stool to remove his boots.

"Look, Teaspoon had no right to say what he did to you," Jimmy started.

"Yeah, he did." Buck carefully placed his boots side by side, next to the stool.

Jimmy regarded his friend sceptically.

"That man has done more for me than anyone else in my life. You too probably. He's earned the right to say whatever he wants to me. I feel like I've let him down."

"You ain't let him down, Buck. He's real proud of you and what you've got here and …"

"You didn't see his face after I shot Neville," Buck interjected glumly.

"Guess he was surprised, is all. I mean, you didn't seem the type to do what you done – it's usually me who goes round shootin' people. If you hadn't of done it and Neville had of been leavin' town I reckon I would have been mighty tempted to do somethin' myself. Heck, Ike was a really good guy and didn't deserve to die like that."

Buck gave his friend a tight-lipped smile and dropped his head. "Still don't make it right."

"Listen, you're a good man, Buck. What you done to Neville was down to grief at losing Ike. Hell, we all felt it, just you had more reason than the rest of us. What you done was understandable."

"And what if I killed Brody too?" Buck said softly.

Jimmy looked at him warily, trying to gauge if Buck was trying to tell him something. "Brody got what was comin' to him. Let's just put it down to – what did you call it? Provy somethin'"

"Providence," Buck reiterated.

"Yeah – that." Jimmy scooped up his hat from where it had hung on the end of Buck's cot and got up to leave. "Look, as Teaspoon said, what's done is done. Don't make no difference how the man died. He's gone and it's time to move on, don't you reckon?" As he went to pass him, Jimmy rested his hand on Buck's shoulder. "Just glad you came back," he told him before he slipped out the door.


	9. Chapter 9

**Here goes – this is what you've been waiting for!**

**Chapter 9**

Buck stayed sitting on the stool, lost in his thoughts for a good while, considering all of what Jimmy had said. He suddenly felt overwhelmingly tired, so he tugged off his shirt and pants, turned out the lantern and lay on his cot, his arms crossed behind his head. Staring off into the darkness he waited for sleep to come but it proved to be evasive.

No matter how hard he tried to block it out, his thoughts would not rest and kept travelling back to the desert. The darkness, of the interior of his room, was replaced with the glare of the sun. . . . . .

He had been following Brody's tracks for nearly two days when he first caught sight of him in the distance. His stomach had lurched and he had nearly turned his horse around there and then but some compulsion had driven him on.

It was evening by the time he had suitably closed the distance. Buck had hung back, keeping out of sight, watching as Brody made camp. As Brody finally settled down on his bedroll for the night Buck began to prepare himself. He dared not light a fire, for fear of it being seen, so he sat cross-legged on the ground, in the darkness, with a small pot, he had retrieved from his saddlebags, before him. For several minutes he sat with his eyes closed, taking deep even breaths and quietly chanting. Then he opened his eyes and picked up the pot and daubed his finger inside. With a steady hand he drew the finger over his face, leaving a white streak from one cheek to the other, across the bridge of his nose. Raising his hands to the sky, he looked up and asked for guidance. When he was ready, he got to his feet and headed towards Brody's camp.

With soft, well placed footsteps, he crept closer, moving almost silently across the sandy ground, careful not to dislodge any rocks and make any noise. Brody's horse lifted his head and snorted as Buck drew nearer. He blew softly into the animal's nostrils to calm it and slowly untied the rope, which secured it to a nearby scrub bush. Then with the stealth, born of his heritage, he quietly led the animal away.

The next morning he watched as Brody frantically searched for the animal, blindly running from one point to another. Buck had been careful to hide any tracks so to Brody it ostensibly looked as if his horse had vanished into thin air. Buck gleaned a certain satisfaction watching as the bounty hunter's frustration grew. Finally Brody seemed to accept that his horse was gone and he would have to walk. He angrily gathered the bare minimum of equipment and left his saddle, bedroll, saddlebags and coffee pot where they lay. With one last look around he left the campsite.

Buck ate a leisurely breakfast and then mounted his own horse and leading Brody's, followed the bounty hunter's footprints at a steady pace. It didn't take long for him to catch up with him. Throughout the day he kept on his trail, being sure to keep enough distance between them so as not to be seen. By midday the searing heat was beginning to get to Brody. He began to stumble at interspersed intervals. As he walked he shed his clothes, first his leather waistcoat, followed by his shirt. He even dropped his hat but wisely kept his bandana, which he used to cover his head. He regularly would look round, as if sensing he was being followed but no one was ever there, just the vast expanse of the desert.

As the sun climbed the afternoon sky Brody took shelter beneath some low lying rocks, taking a few sips of water from his canteen. Buck had ridden to slightly higher ground where he had a good view of the bounty hunter's position. He too took a drink from one of his canteens and poured some in his hat, to offer to the horses. Settling in the relative shade of a boulder, Buck chewed on some jerky, just watching and waiting. Brody didn't stir for a couple of hours then took another drink from his canteen, looked up at the sun's position and set off once more.

Keeping a good distance between them, Buck continued to follow Brody's trail. He felt a certain satisfaction as he saw the man tire to such an extent that he began to stagger and lurch, but he doggedly continued on, through the intense heat. He kept walking into the evening as the temperature began to drop, eventually coming to a stop when the darkness made the safe placing of the next footstep too difficult.

From the edge of an outcrop of rocks, which provided cover for him and the horses, Buck watched Brody light a small fire and sit hunched before it. He took a piece of jerky from a pocket and chewed laboriously on it before taking a drink from his canteen and laying down to rest for the night.

Waiting until he was sure he was fully asleep, Buck once more moved towards the makeshift camp. He could hear soft, even breathing as he drew closer, assuring him that Brody was asleep. The man lay on his side, hand outstretched, lying by his canteen, his fingertips just touching its sides. Buck squatted down and drew his knife from the sheath on his leg. Carefully he placed his other hand on top of the canteen and put the sharp point of his knife into the leather of the container. With a quick jab he broke through and felt the water ooze from the slit he had made and watch it disappear into the ground. Brody stirred and Buck stilled himself, staring at the sleeping face of his once tormentor. As Brody settled into a deeper sleep Buck crept away.

Throughout the night Buck kept vigil, watching and waiting until the sun crawled back into the sky, sending long jagged shadows across the earth. Although he did not perform the full ritual of prayer, Buck greeted the new day with thanks and once more asked to be shown the way.

His attention was drawn to Brody who had started to stir. With slow, stiff movements Brody sat up and reached for the canteen at his side. Removing the stopper he lifted it to his lips and tipped it up. Then he tipped it a little higher and then once more, catching a couple of drops on his tongue. He began to shake it and finally turned it completely upside down until, in a frustrated fit of fury, he tossed it aside. For a moment he didn't move but put his head in his hands. Suddenly he looked up and scanned the surrounding area and scrambled to his feet.

"Anyone out there?" he yelled.

Buck tensed and shrank further into the shadows.

Brody called out again.

Buck's heart thudded in his chest but he remained hushed and hidden.

When the bounty hunter got no answer his head dropped despondently. Snatching up his few possessions he made to leave but not before kicking the empty canteen angrily.

Brody trudged his way through the desert for the best part of the morning until it became too hot and he sought refuge behind some scrub, which offered inadequate shade from the midday sun.

Buck checked his position and then circled the horses wide and rode on. He knew Brody wouldn't be able to go too far, too quickly. He had been riding for about twenty minutes when his horse pricked up his ears and lifted his head. Giving the animal a slack rein Buck let it lead him through the rough terrain until he felt the pace quicken and the horse took him to a small trickle of spring water, seeping over a rock.

Slipping off the horse Buck took off his bandana – Ike's red one which he always carried with him – and held it in the water and rubbed it across the back of his neck and over his chest. Next he dug a well in the ground and let the water collect and retrieved a canteen from his horse and filled it as best he could, then let the horses drink before filling the hole and hiding any evidence of his being there.

He led the horses a little ways off and settled down to wait. He felt sure Brody would find his way there. The man knew how to take care of himself and would be looking out for signs of water in the vegetation and wild life. It might take him a while but he would come, so Buck settled down to rest for a while.

A few hours later, just as the sun was dipping down towards the horizon, Buck was alerted by the horses lifting their heads and flicking their ears. Crouching low on his haunches, Buck peered into the distance, searching for a figure in the haze of the day. A dark, moving shape caught his eye as Brody walked unsteadily in his direction. It took him near on half an hour to come close, as his path weaved through the scrub and rocks. It was obvious to Buck the man was searching for water and that his assumptions about Brody's survival skills had been right.

Suddenly Brody's pace quickened and he headed straight towards the rocks where the spring was located. When he was within a few feet Buck picked up the rifle, which he had placed at his side, took aim and let off a shot, hitting the ground just in front of Brody, sending up a spray of sandy earth. Brody immediately dived for cover, drawing his own gun and fired a shot of his own, in no particular direction.

"Who's out there" Brody called.

Buck did not reply.

A good ten minutes passed and the temptation got too great for Brody and he got to his feet and tried to get closer to the water. Buck allowed him to get within a couple of feet and then fired another shot. He wasn't as proficient as some of the other riders had been with a rifle, especially Cody, but he wasn't trying to hit a target, just the near vicinity. Brody dropped to his knees and let off a shot of his own but he still hadn't been able to pin point from where the shots were coming.

"What do you want?" he yelled. "Come out and face me you coward!" he shrieked, with near hysteria.

Buck remained reticent.

Swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, Brody looked longingly at the water just a short distance away. He suddenly got to his feet and made a dash towards it. Buck reacted immediately, sending a flurry of bullets in his direction, causing the man to almost dance on the spot to avoid being hit. Brody scurried back from the water, to squat behind a clump of scrub, firing his gun wildly until he ran out of rounds. He sat panting for a moment, catching his breath, eyes darting nervously about.

"Who are you?" he shouted. "Why don't you show yourself?"

When he got no response Brody once more made a move towards the water only to have another shot ring out. He went to fire his gun again but it merely clicked on the empty chamber. Running his hand along his gun belt, with trembling fingers, he slipped out the remaining bullets and reloaded. There were only five bullets. He ran his hand over his belt again but it was empty. He cursed, recalling that he had put the new pack of bullets he bought in Millersville in his saddlebags, which he left back at the camp where he had lost his horse.

Snapping the barrel back into position he scanned the area once more, in the hope of catching sight of whoever was shooting at him but he could see nothing.

Having reached a state of impasse, where neither were going to move from their positions they played the waiting game. Brody's need and desperation for water kept him rooted to his position, while Buck's objective kept him in his spot. Every so often Brody would make a move and Buck would let off a shot. After a couple of shots Buck decided he needed to change location, so Brody wouldn't be able to work out from where he was firing. He moved stealthily around the outskirts of the area, keeping a watchful eye on the bounty hunter, firing every time he moved. After a couple of hours of this cat and mouse game Brody's frustration and thirst won out.

"Who the hell are you? Is that you Grimsby?" he yelled. "Can't we talk about this? I know I cheated on you but we can sort that out, can't we?" He got no response.

"Wade?" he called again. "Thought we had that situation in Porterville straightened out. You can't still be holdin' a grudge?" Still no answer.

"God damn it – WHO ARE YOU?" he screamed, tossing a handful of dirt to the ground.

Buck tightened his grip on the rifle he held, pressing his lips together, keeping his emotions in check. It wasn't in his nature to act so vindictively but there was this inner instinct, screaming for him to exact his revenge. The fact that Brody obviously had a number of acquaintances who he had crossed, and who may also be seeking retribution, added fuel to his fire. This man had nearly ruined his life, a life he had fought long and hard to achieve, a life which through no action of his own had been torn apart when Ike had been killed. It had not been easy to recover from the loss of his friend but he had and this lowlife before him had nearly taken all that he managed to rebuild from him. He felt the anger well up inside him once more and his resolve strengthen. He had come this far and he intended to see it through.

O-O-O-O-O

Brody kept careful watch of the water for most of the night and tried to slip closer in the darkness, which also gave the extra cover Buck needed to get near enough to make out Brody, in the small streaks of moonlight, as he kept his own vigil.

At every attempt to get to the water, Brody was warned off with a single shot. Throughout the night Buck had shifted position and as the sun rose and the sky lightened, he had moved further away to a location where he could still see Brody.

By the time dawn was breaking the bounty hunter was at his whit's end. After one final effort he shouted, "Why don't you just kill me?" Getting no reply he resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting a drink any time soon so decided to move on, hopefully be able to shake off whoever it was who was tailing him and make his way back to the spring.

"Okay – you win. The water's all yours," he called, standing up with hands raised as if in surrender and heading further out into the dry wasteland.

Buck found he was shaking as he watched him move off. He could leave now but he was sure Brody would be doubling back and needed to see this through, so he waited a short while before heading back to where he had left the horses. After giving them water and feed, he packed up his gear and set off after Brody.

Brody had been without water for a couple of days and he was beginning to suffer, getting gradually weaker and increasingly disorientated. Wandering from place to place he soon lost his bearings. There was a certain panic in his actions as he realised he couldn't remember which way to go to get back to the water. He had tried to get some moisture from the roots of some plants but had only succeeded in sucking a very small amount from them and had snapped the blade of his knife, digging in the hard, dry ground, in the process. In a fit of irritation he had thrown the weapon aside and tried to dig further with his hands but the stony, coarse ground had merely made his hands rough and sore.

As night began to fall he slumped dejectedly to the ground, exhausted and extremely dehydrated.

Buck, who had been ghosting him all day, stopped a little way off and slid from his horse's back. After seeing to both animals and making sure they were secured, Buck crouched low and manoeuvred his way through the sparse undergrowth and crept closer to Brody. He could hear the man rambling disconsolately as he lay curled on the ground.

Suddenly a coyote let out its mournful cry and Brody sat bolt upright. Buck could see the whites of his eyes reflected in the evening gloom.

"You out there?" Brody exclaimed.

Buck shifted position to conceal himself better and managed to dislodge some loose stones in the process, making them roll away with a clatter. In the still of the night, the sound was amplified. He froze and waited to see Brody's reaction. The bounty hunter scrambled to his feet and drew his gun.

"That you?" he called out. In his confused state he was unable to pin point exactly where the sound had come from but it had obviously unnerved him. "What d'you want?" he said warily, his head spinning around as her searched the darkness. The coyote let out another cry, which proved too much for Brody who began to fire his gun wildly until the hammer clicked on the empty chamber. A couple of the shots had come a little too near to Buck but not so close as to make him move. As Brody realised he was out of bullets he hurled the weapon into the air with a cry of anguish. Buck heard the soft thud in the sandy ground, a few feet from where he was hidden as the gun landed. The next sound he heard took him by surprise. The man was sobbing.

Buck felt a brief flush of remorse but it soon passed as he remembered how little regard Brody had had for his feelings when he had made him drink from a bowl like a dog, had kept him tied in the most uncomfortable of positions and had dragged him behind his horse. And for what? Money – nothing more. Nothing as honourable as revenge or justice. Not even a personal vendetta. Merely financial remuneration. He owed this man only contempt.

With patience born of compulsion, Buck waited out the night, listening as Brody's sobs lessened, until the man fell into fitful sleep. Easing down into a more comfortable position, Buck allowed himself to doze a little but was alert enough to wake at the slightest noise.

The sound of Brody moaning and groaning brought Buck back to his full senses just as dawn was breaking. His eyes snapped open and he scrambled forward to see what the man planned to do next. The bounty hunter rolled on the ground, then got onto all fours and started crawling for a few paces before finally lurching to unsteady feet. He stood swaying, turning his head, trying to decide which way to go. Squinting up at the sun he seemed to come to the conclusion to head north.

Buck watched as the man staggered away, weaving his way through the rough terrain. After collecting the horses, Buck followed on foot, leading the animals, allowing them to graze whatever vegetation they could find along the way. Brody wasn't going to be able to get that far ahead of him, he reasoned. The course the man took became increasingly meandering and by early afternoon Buck saw the dark form of his body lying in the dirt a couple of hundred yards ahead.

He held back a while but there was no movement. Slowly he made his way towards Brody's inert body. As he drew closer he could see the rise and fall of the man's chest, telling him he still lived. Leaving the horses a few paces away he circled round to stand in front of him.

With an unfocussed gaze, Brody stared off into the distance, his eyes travelling along the ground. His attention was brought to the fore by the appearance of a pair of black boots. As he lifted his eyes he saw a large knife strapped to one of the boots. There was something familiar about the boot and knife combination but he couldn't bring to mind why that should be. With a great deal of effort he managed to roll onto his back and looked up at the man who stood before him.

"Thank God!" he rasped. "Thought I'd had it!"

He was momentarily blinded by the glare of the sun but as the stranger shifted position slightly he blocked the light and Brody could see him more clearly. He stared up with mouth agape.

"Y – y –you?" he stammered huskily.

Buck stared back down at him grimly but said nothing.

"Was that you back at the water?" Brody asked shakily.

Buck remained stone faced, regarding him impassively.

"Look, what happened, like I said, was nothin' personal. Just business. You ain't gonna hold that against me, are you? I mean you got away, right? I got paid. We're all happy."

Scrabbling his hands along the ground Brody held one out to Buck, who ignored it. Brody slumped back but tried to push himself up. "Give me a hand here would you, injun?" he gasped.

Buck glared at him with disdain then calmly turned and walked away.

"You can't leave me here," Brody called out, desperately trying to get to his feet but collapsing almost instantaneously. Buck kept walking until he reached the horses and gracefully mounted his sorrel, catching the reins of Brody's bay and leading it behind.

"You damn thief!" Brody rasped. "At least leave me some water," he cried.

Buck did not look back.

**I hope this worked! Please remember I am a Brit and my main frame of reference is the western series I used to watch in my youth! The idea for this story was actually taken from an episode of How the West was Won. I am not a survival expert and am useless at research but I wanted Buck to get his revenge without the possibility of his being implicated. **

**Thanks for still reading – one more chapter to go which is nearly complete. My Dad died 4 days ago and I've been a little too pre-occupied to write but hope to post the last chapter in the next couple of days. X**


	10. Chapter 10

**So here's the final chapter. Sorry for the delay. Just need to say a big thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing – especially the 'To the Pain' girls! A huge hug for Kristina for her continued support and advice and total respect for my beta, Grace who unjumbled my words and made it coherent!**

**Chapter 10**

Buck sighed and closed his eyes against the dark of his room, willing sleep to claim him and release him from his inner turmoil. He was still trying to come to terms with what he had done.

The last he had seen or heard of Brody, was when he left him there in the desert. He had ridden back towards Millersville, to meet up with Jimmy, stopping only to wash the white stripe from his face, to signify the end of his task, and turn Brody's horse loose. He hated deceiving his friend but knew it was for the best. The less Jimmy knew the better and that went doubly for Teaspoon. Buck could not bear to have the man look at him again with the same disappointment as he had the day he shot Neville. There was no way Buck could find to justify his actions in the eyes of the law. He had been lucky to get away with killing Neville as it had only been the lack of a witness to save him that day.

Buck knew he would have to carry the knowledge of what he had done with him for the rest of his days. In time he would learn to live with it, as he had with so many other incidents in his life. He appreciated what he had now and would never wish to jeopardise that by telling anyone what happened out in the desert. At least there could be no proof of his involvement. He had been careful to leave no trace that would link him to the man's death but had done what he had set out to do, bringing the man to his knees and letting him know exactly who it was who had brought him there but without witnessing his actual demise.

Getting his revenge on Brody was something he had felt compelled to do, almost as if some inner being was forcing his hand. There had been no choice but to do what he had done - his Kiowa heart had demanded it and told him it was his right. Throughout his life he had faced so much prejudice and injustice and, in the main, he had born it with good grace. But Brody had crossed a line, one he found abhorrent. To him, the bounty hunter had crossed the line of human decency and had acted out of sheer maliciousness. He may have crossed his own line but he had done so out of loyalty and love.

Life out here in the West was hard for most and it was a struggle to survive and thrive but Buck had started to do just that, against the odds. It seemed ironic to him that it was he who was referred to as savage. Throughout his life he had witnessed the most barbaric of treatment against fellow human beings from the most upright of people, from those in the army, slaughtering women and children, to those using the veiled curtain of supposed law and order, to dispense their own form of justice. It was the harsh realities of life, which had formed him and caused him to act as he had.

Although he was sure they would understand he didn't need to burden his family with the secret. He refused to feel guilt but could not stop the sense of shame. Lying to the others had been one of the hardest things he had ever done but they could not be drawn into this dark part of his world. The less people who knew the better he reasoned. He was pretty sure Teaspoon knew he had had a hand in Brody's death, and Hickok too. Not telling Jimmy had been the right decision, as his friend had enough death on his own hands with which to deal. Didn't alter the fact he had been there to support him and for that Buck would always be indebted.

His place was here and he would do whatever it took to protect that life and his family. His brother, Red Bear, had once told him to return to his white family and make a place for himself in their world as that was where he heart lay. Looking back, Buck realised his brother had been right. He owed it to them to make the best of the hand he had been dealt. A line had been drawn under this part of his life and he intended never to look back.

O-O-O-O-O

A small shaft of dim light slunk under the door, signalling the start of a new day. Buck watched as the light crept towards him along the floor. As it got brighter he decided he might as well get up, as it was pointless trying to get any sleep now. Swinging his legs over the side of his cot he sighed and pushed himself to his feet, snagged his pants off the stool and pulled them on. Once he had tugged on his boots he ran his fingers through his tangled hair. He did up the top buttons of his Henley shirt as he made his way through the livery, greeting the horses with a few soft words, as they popped their heads over the doors of their stalls in anticipation of the morning feed.

Pushing open the large wooden livery door he took an appreciative gulp of fresh air. Rock Creek was just coming to life, as a few early risers started to prepare for the day. Mr Johnson, the baker, was making his way to the hotel and gave Buck a friendly greeting as he passed by, with a basket of fresh bread. Buck smiled a return acknowledgement. Looking across to Rachel's house he could see the curtains in the front window had been pushed back. She would be getting breakfast started for him, Teaspoon and Jimmy. He felt a warm glow of appreciation.

A loud clattering drew his attention down the street as Tompkins set up his display of pots and pans outside his store. Buck gave a derisive snort. The store owner had not been one of Buck's greatest admirers over the years but a mutual understanding had grown between them and to some extent, respect. Watching Tompkins lay out his wares gave Buck a comforting feeling of familiarity. It was a simple thing but it gave him a sense of belonging, something at one time he thought he would never have.

As more people began to stir Buck decided that today would be a good day to start the rest of his life. After seeing to the horses in his care and getting breakfast at Rachel's, with Teaspoon and Jimmy, he would ride out to visit with Lou and Kid and baby Lewis. He was sure they would welcome a little help about their place as they had their hands full with the baby. If he was being truthful, he got a lot of pleasure from being around the young family and hoped that one day he might be as lucky as Kid. He had a good life but to be able to share it with someone would make it all worthwhile.

Someone calling his name brought him out of his reverie. He looked over to see Rachel waving to him, a broad smile on her face. "Breakfast will be ready in about half an hour, Buck," she called over.

"Thanks. I'll just finish up here and be right over," he replied affirmatively.

He noticed the look of relief on Rachel's face. It was about time they all stopped worrying about him he decided, as he turned to go back into the livery. As he entered the cool calm of the interior of the barn and heard the horses shuffling in their stalls and smelt their sweet scent, he suddenly felt at peace. This is where he wanted to be and where he belonged. He had the chance at a new start and he intended to grasp it. Buck never wanted to cross the line again.

**Or would he? Have to wait and see I guess. I may have to find him a 'Twu wuv'! Thanks again for reading.**


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